


you been waiting for this feeling all your life

by millersmonty



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday Fluff, M/M, Some talk of sex, background Bellarke, but nothing explicit, other background relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6921550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millersmonty/pseuds/millersmonty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mess of a cake was placed down in front of him, and he couldn’t stifle his laugh. Twenty-one tiny candles were on top, among sloppy writing that read “Happy Birthday Miller” in red frosting. The rest of the cake was white, and decorated with an assortment of flowers, nuts, and berries. He looked up to see Monty and Clarke looking at him with twin smiles, and he knew it would be the best cake he’d ever had just because they made it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you been waiting for this feeling all your life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jennycaakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/gifts).



> So, this is my birthday gift for Jenn. It's based on a dream that I had and was telling her about a few days ago. I might end up making it a series of one-shots in this verse. It's canon divergent and set a few years after the general events of season 3.

Birthdays were never a good thing in the skybox. Each one that passed just meant you were one year closer to execution. Fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen were like the timer on a bomb slowly counting down. Eighteen was like the end of the world all over again. None of them even bothered to think beyond that, and certainly not all the way to twenty-one. No one ever won their retrial, after all. So Miller had never dared to imagine that he would make it this far when he was thrown into lockup at sixteen. He was seventeen when he was sent to the ground, but what should have been a relief just felt like another death sentence. Between hostile grounders, radioactive animals, the terrors of the mountain, and fighting amongst themselves, Miller still didn’t have any more hope that he would make it into adulthood than he had when he was in the skybox. 

His eighteenth birthday came and went without a thought when they were fighting Alie. Nineteen was spent traveling, a little group striking out on their own away from what was left of Arkadia, with a little help from Luna in the form of a fully stocked ship and very detailed maps. On his twentieth they were building their new home, welcomed into a clan of grounders on the coast of what used to be France. They had expected conflict when they arrived and found the land to be occupied, but were instead welcomed with open arms and cups of sweet wine. Luna had friends everywhere, it seemed. Now Miller was turning twenty-one, and for the first time things were stable and calm enough for him to actually celebrate it.

It was better than anything he’d ever hoped to imagine. On the beach, surrounded by old friends and newer ones, tables overflowing with food and cups overflowing with wine, the sun setting over the ocean painting everything in a pink and orange glow. There were streamers and long swaths of fabric blowing in the breeze. Lanterns and different colored candles compensated for the dwindling sunlight, and there were fragrant flowers on every available surface. The wide open ocean was in front of him and the village stood tall and sturdy behind him. Someone was playing light, upbeat music in the distance. Miller leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh and downed the rest of his cup. He knew Monty probably had a big hand in planning this, and he’d make sure to repay his boyfriend when he turned nineteen later in the year.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was Clarke and Monty coming down the cobblestone walkway onto the beach, carrying a cake between them. It was long and uneven on top, and Miller could see the topsy-turvy candles struggling to stand upright. As they approached his table, everyone else took notice and began to gather around too. The mess of a cake was placed down in front of him, and he couldn’t stifle his laugh. Twenty-one tiny candles were on top, among sloppy writing that read “Happy Birthday Miller” in red frosting. The rest of the cake was white, and decorated with an assortment of flowers, nuts, and berries. He looked up to see Monty and Clarke looking at him with twin smiles, and he knew it would be the best cake he’d ever had just because they made it for him.

“Well,” Miller said, reaching out to grab Monty and drag him down to sit on his lap, “Aren’t you going to sing to me? That’s the tradition, right?”

That lead to a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday to You” sang partially in English and partially in French, all in different tunes and tempos. The loudest of them all was Murphy, already drunk and leaning into Emori while she laughed at looked at him with pure fondness. As soon as the last person was done, Miller blew out the candles and Clarke handed him a knife and he began haphazardly cutting slices for everyone. Monty lifted his own fork to Miller’s mouth and Miller happily took the bite. He had been right, it was the best cake he’d ever had, but not just because it was made by people he loved. It tasted like vanilla and berries and buttercream, and it was made even sweeter when Monty pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Happy Birthday,” Monty said, pulling back with a warm smile.

Miller pulled him back in for another kiss and said, “Best one ever.”

They settled into comfortable silence after that, Miller watching their friends and enjoying another cup of wine while Monty pressed soft kisses into his neck. He didn’t see how life could ever get better than this.

He saw Bellamy and Clarke slow dancing by the water, looking more relaxed than either of them had looked in a long time, and he was glad they’d finally come to their senses and realized what they meant to each other. If he’d overheard Bellamy asking a few of the clansmen about their marriage traditions a few weeks back, well he had enough sense to keep that information to himself for now. Octavia was play fighting with a group of children in the sand, and Miller was so happy for her. She’d been lost after Lincoln died, spiraling into a pit of darkness that they thought she might never come out of. The change of scenery had probably been better for her than for any of them, and over the past year she had started to look more like the girl he remembered from those first few days on the ground all those years ago. He spotted his father having a drink with Armand, the head of the clan’s army, both of them laughing boisterously, probably trading stories about military life that Miller knew he likely never wanted to hear. He didn’t miss the way his dad’s gaze kept roaming back to a kind, soft-spoken redhead named Brielle, one of the clan’s teachers. He also didn’t miss the fact that he’d started wearing his wedding ring on a chain around his neck lately, instead of on his finger. He saw Kane and Abby walking along the beach together, Kane’s arm around her shoulders and Abby’s own hand gently cradling the prominent bump on her stomach. It would only be a few more months now. Harper was down by the water laughing with a group of other girls, splashing each other every time a wave came in. He was happy she had found good friends here. He couldn’t see Raven or Jasper, but he could hear them with a small group drunkenly debating something scientific that Miller couldn’t decipher.

His attention was snatched by Monty when he changed from just kissing his neck to biting it, little nips that stole the air from Miller’s lungs. He lifted one hand to Monty’s hair to gently pull his head back and rested the other high on Monty’s thigh.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Miller asked with a smirk.

Monty shrugged and pouted. “You weren’t paying attention to me.”

Miller laughed and rested his head back onto his chair. “Well I am now,” he said, then lowered his voice to the husky tone he knew Monty loved, “And if you keep that up we’ll have to miss the rest of the party.”

“That’s the plan,” Monty said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You still have one more present to get, after all.”

Miller knew there was a whole table of presents just a few feet away, but every one of them was pushed from his mind at that. He loved his friends, and he loved the beach, and he loved this party, but he’d be crazy to turn down birthday sex in favor of staying here. He nearly jumped out of the chair when Monty trailed one hand down his stomach and rested it on the front of his pants. He chanced a quick glance around them and was thankful to find that no one was watching.

Monty laughed and hid his face in Miller’s neck. He moved his hand away from Miller’s crotch and rested it around his waist instead, and Miller wanted nothing more than to pick his sneaky little tease of a boyfriend up and carry him off to bed, the rest of the party be damned. _Yeah, we’ll see who’s laughing when you can’t get out of bed in the morning Green_ , Miller thought. He was just about to voice that thought when Monty lifted his head and spoke.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” Monty looked at him with more love than Miller had ever thought he’d have or deserve, and it made his chest feel like it could burst. _Home_. The little house he shared with Monty where the forest met the village, with a garden on the side and all of their best friends for neighbors, and a stray white kitten that showed up one day and never left.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.” He let Monty pull him up out of his chair and start dragging him away, sparing a glance back at the rest of the people he loved. He caught Bellamy’s eyes over Clarke’s shoulder, and they shared a nod as Bellamy smirked at him. He knew he could count on his best friend to cover for him if anyone started to wonder where he and Monty got away to, even though it likely wouldn’t take much thought to figure it out. He’d probably be teased tomorrow when he emerged for work again, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when Monty was looking back at him with hungry eyes and lips that were begging to be kissed.

 

* * *

 

Later, when they were laying awake in bed sweaty and satisfied, Monty propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down at Miller and said, “Did you ever make a wish? When you blew out your candles? It’s tradition.”

Miller thought about their friends throwing a party for him on the beach, thought about how he’d survived to twenty-one when he never thought he would and still had so much life to look forward to, thought about the fact that he had Monty Green safe and warm in his arms and a little white kitten basking in the beam of moonlight spilling across the floor, and he smiled.

“Didn’t need to,” He said, “I’ve already got exactly what I want.”

He was _home_. 


End file.
